Kir’s scowl deepens with every beat. Lukas’s remains still. The only sign that thepakhanis alive is the slow, methodical tap of his index finger against the walnut.
Tap. Pause.Tap.
“And so we believe,” I conclude, “that Raymond was not the head of Vainakh. He was the face. He had been cleaning their money through the firm and helping them get their footing in New York. But somewhere along the line, he saw the size of the cash flowing through and decided he wanted more of it. He started skimming. Bill found out, so Raymond killed Bill. The Caymans trip was not good news for Raymond and he knew it. He was being lured down there to be put in the ground, so he planned to bring Cassandra like an insurance policy. Leave her in their hands as collateral so they’d trust him enough to get back to work and then,poof,he’d disappear.”
Lukas’s fingers tap the edge of the table once. Then they go still for good.
“So you are telling me,” he says, “that we have spent many months and a great deal of money chasing the wrong man.”
“More or less, yeah.”
“And that the right man—who remains a mystery to us—knows it. Not only does this mystery kingpin know it, but he has just demonstrated, in the span of a single weekend, the willingness and ability to murder a senior partner at the largest law firm in the city, an innocent woman in a hospital bed, and the frontman of his own organization, all without leaving so much as a fingerprint.”
I nod. “That’s an admirably succinct summary,pakhan.”
Kir leans forward, his forearms on the table, his gray eyes not leaving my face. “Mat. I’ve got a question for you.”
I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach about where this is headed. “Fire away.”
“Are you in this room because you want this guy dead?” he questions. “Or because you want her out?”
Lying would be so easy here. I am, after all, a professional at it. There’s a reason “lawyer” and “liar” sound almost the same when you say them out loud. Then I remember Jillian sliding a cup of tea across her kitchen table.
Lies live forever. You can’t outrun them.
“Both,” I say. “But if you make me pick, I’ll pick her.”
“I appreciate the honesty,” Lukas says. “It’s going to make what I say next easier.”
I brace.
But bracing turns out not to be enough for what he says next.
“You have seventy-two hours.”
My face pales. “Lukas?—”
“Hear me out. I did not interrupt you, so pay me the respect of doing the same.” Lukas waits for me to agree to his terms. Reluctantly, I close my mouth and nod. “If, at the end of seventy-two hours, we have a name, an address, a face—something we can put actual fucking hands on—then we can move to cut off the head of this snake. But if that time expires and we still donothave any of those things, then we go to ground and prepare for a long-term war of attrition. I won’t have my men killed chasing a ghost. Are we understood?”
“Understood,” I say aloud.
But inwardly, I’m in turmoil. Three days is not nearly enough time for the task at hand. The word Lukas used,ghost,is perfect for this. This Vainakh Syndicate fuck has been nothing but smoke and shadow for months. All of Lukas’s vast resources couldn’t unearth the man. Now, I’m supposed to accomplish on my own what the entire Bratva couldn’t do for the better part of a year?
And in the meantime…
In the meantime, Cass is in a goddamn cell. She’s being dressed in a scratchy gray uniform, eating meals off a scarred metal tray, while rubbing the pale dent on her ring finger and wondering whether the man who swore on his father’s grave to protect has decided she isn’t worth the effort anymore.
My ribs flare under the table. I clamp my palm against them and breathe through my clenched teeth.
“Good.” Lukas folds his hands. “One more thing.” He looks at Afon, then back at me. “I want you both to know that the original deal is still on the table.”
My nose wrinkles up. “I don’t follow.”
“I think you do, but I’ll spell it out. We had a deal, you and I. A life for a life. You said you’d kill Raymond, and I’d free you and your uncle of any further obligation to the Bratva. You failed to kill Raymond, but I am still a man of my word. So do this for me instead. You bring me the head of Vainakh—in a bag or in a chair or in a coffin, I don’t give a damn—but do that, and you both walk.”
I’m speechless. I thought all along that I’d fucked this up for both of us. My entire being has been bent toward getting Cass free. Afon’s freedom got no thought, and my own got even less than that.
But if there’s still a chance… even a small one, a sliver of one…
